


Sparagmos

by Aviantei



Series: Sparagmos [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Dismemberment, Fantasy, Fighting, Gen, One Shot, Sparagmos Verse, War, Written for a Class, mythology AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 01:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20806391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aviantei/pseuds/Aviantei
Summary: [One Shot; AU] They were gods once. They were still gods, even if they were no longer worshiped. This time was known as the Age of Miracles. And in this era, the god of destruction did not like to be ignored.





	Sparagmos

**Author's Note:**

> This one shot was originally posted on fanfiction.net n July 1, 2014. After taking a Greek Mythology class, I discovered the word "Sparagmos," which roughly means "a ritual dismemberment." I thought that was a hella cool word and thought it would make for a good cornerstone for a story. And because I have awful taste in fictional characters, Hanamiya took center stage. I ultimately used this piece as one of my major projects in the creative writing course I was taking at the same time.
> 
> If you couldn't guess by the title I chose, violence is a thing here, so read with caution.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**Sparagmos**

By: Aviantei

A _Kuroko no Basuke_ One Shot

* * *

They were gods once. They were still gods, even if they were no longer worshipped. The new gods had swept into the world, captured everyone’s attention. With them, the problems of the world—the strife, the illness, the poverty—all seemed to disappear. The old gods were dismissed, only a few believers visiting their temples and bringing sacrifices. It was a new era, one the humans were pretentious enough to call the Age of Miracles.

Five new unwavering sources of power that brought prosperity and health, farms overflowing with crops and an almost utopian happiness. They were just that powerful, using tactics and power to make change wherever they went. Stories of them were everywhere, and sometimes it was hard to separate fact from rumor, and even myths of a sixth god making it harder to believe what you heard.

Makoto didn’t care about any of that. He settled in at his only remaining active temple, made it his home. Even if the times were changing, he maintained his own philosophy, despite what others would have considered the need to change.

No matter how indestructible something looked, it could be broken and destroyed. And then it would cease to matter.

He didn’t want to eliminate the new gods. He only wanted to show that they were as susceptible to being shattered as anything, even humans. He wanted to break them, to string them up in front of their followers. He didn’t want to gain any affection for what he could do. He simply wanted the people to remember it.

The god of destruction did not like to be ignored.

* * *

Makoto spent his time wandering the halls of his temple, thinking of the best way to accomplish his goals. He didn’t have the power to stand up to them, or even their followers. If it were a one-on-one situation, there might have been a chance. He had more experience than the harbingers of the Age of Miracles. The gods had always been warriors, and Makoto had fought in more battles than all of the new gods combined.

However, it was a question of numbers. Nearly every human on the planet was turning to the new gods, bolstering their power. Their armies grew as a result, just one of their number leading an army large enough to outnumber Makoto’s, and combined it created an even more disparaging ratio. Even the new gods’ weakest would be more than enough to wipe out his soldiers’ existence. For the Old Gods, that had been the consequence of the world moving on to the Age of Miracles.

Strategy would have to compromise for power. People always seemed to forget that was one of his aspects, too. Makoto preferred it this way. If all they thought he could do was mindlessly destroy others, then they never saw his real tricks coming.

It wouldn’t be enough, though. As anxious as Makoto was to get started, he was not going to be humiliated for an unavoidable failure. He needed more numbers—another army at least. It could even be a small one. A little bit more manpower was all that he needed.

Makoto knew his best bet was to overtake one of the other old gods first. Any followers they had retained were a benefit. He chose Teppei. It had to be Teppei. The other three had formed an alliance, and they had far too many combined followers to overcome. Makoto had never liked Teppei, anyway. The fact that he would be the one to take him down was only a bonus.

* * *

There were times when Makoto left his temple, letting his presence be known in the world. The old gods had been overshadowed, but there was no reason to be completely forgotten. Even if the people in towns didn’t always worship him, they still recognized him as a god, as one with power. It was enough, and the sight of humans acknowledging him would bring a sense of satisfaction that his name wasn’t entirely forgotten.

Sometimes, he would see the new gods, and move on to some other town to accomplish whatever task he needed to do. Traveling great distances wasn’t as much as a hassle for the gods as it was for humans and would only barely drag out his trips. Avoiding the new gods made it easier, anyway, not getting caught up in the full-out revelries that came from their presence and even more rumors about their potential sixth member. It only made Makoto want to break them more.

Other times, Makoto encountered the old gods. Unlike their replacements, Makoto and the others had never worked together as a single unit. There were times when they combined their forces for mutual goals, but in the end, they just clashed too much. Things hadn’t changed much since then. Reo would start the occasional conversation when he met Makoto, but it would always be short. Kotaro and Eikichi never bothered, probably not wanting to waste time.

Makoto tried his best to avoid Teppei at all costs. Out of all of them, Teppei had fared the worst. The other four all seemed to have a semblance of a following left. Teppei’s had the fewest members, his army miniscule in comparison to how it had been before. Despite the situation he was in, though, he still looked happy, laughing and smiling, playing with children in the streets of towns most of the times Makoto saw him, like he wasn’t being forgotten.

The god of protection and forgiveness. What a joke.

* * *

Avoiding Teppei turned out to be almost impossible. Somehow what few followers they had left ended up in a territory struggle, grasping at whatever resources they could have. The new gods didn’t discriminate against the few humans that didn’t follow them, but no Age of Miracles could completely eliminate human greed. The towns went to battle, and prayed to their gods to aid them.

It wasn’t necessary for the gods to wage war, but they often did with any excuse. Defeating another’s army raised the winner’s numbers, increasing their power and range of influence. For the old gods, more had come to be at stake. Their believers were dwindling as it was, so any battle needed to be won.

Makoto would have taken any opportunity to battle Teppei. There was no room for forgiveness on the battlefield, and eliminating another old god would be the perfect first step to destroying the new ones. He had never liked Teppei, anyway, and, with how weak the god of protection was, the battle would be over shortly. Makoto held back from the front lines, issuing his orders with utter confidence.

He shouldn’t have laughed, though. The resulting battle made the obvious enough. He had been hoping to overtake them, to assimilate them into his own ranks. They were stronger than he had imagined, not falling as easily as Makoto had thought they would. They were tearing down Makoto’s army, even if they were terribly outnumbered. They would have been perfect for taking down the new gods. They were also tenacious enough that they wouldn’t have submitted unless they were broken and forced.

As much Makoto hated to admit it, he didn’t stand a chance. Especially with Teppei joining the fray. They hadn’t been gods before for nothing. They were strong, but Teppei had somehow gotten stronger, taking down more soldiers than Makoto had thought the god of protection would be able to manage. And one by one, as the members of his army fell, Makoto knew there was only one option.

It was a dirty shot. Makoto had never played fair though. The members of his army, beaten and broken and almost dead, could hold Teppei down for a few seconds. They swarmed him, prevented anyone else from interfering. Makoto launched the spear. Teppei broke free and attempted to dodge the assault. There was still a crack and a scream.

Teppei fell.

Teppei continued to scream, lying on the ground. Despite the dodge, it had been a better shot than even Makoto could have hoped for. The other god’s leg was gone, taken from the knee. It wouldn’t kill him, and the limb would grow back in time. But their followers were few, so an injury like that would take much more time to heal than it had before.

Junpei made the next move. He was Teppei’s right hand man, the leader of the army. Junpei dived for Makoto, weapons and teeth bared. Their tactician called him back, a smart move. The poor man was only human, after all. Makoto may have been spent, but he had enough energy left to destroy Junpei where he stood, even if the man did retreat.

“We’ve had enough for today. Fall back,” Makoto ordered, letting Junpei fall back without injury. His army understood. It was a hobbling retreat and they hadn’t gotten what they wanted, but Makoto could care less. It didn’t matter that their retreat meant they had lost. He had reduced Teppei to a screaming, quivering mess on the ground. He was no better than a worm.

It would affect his power. His followers would decrease, his army would have their morale reduced. They were only as strong as the god they followed. Makoto would gain some power as a result. It wasn’t the step he had expected to take, but it was closer.

Time would pass. The new gods would be destroyed in time.

* * *

The alliance between the other three old gods grew stronger. A few years passed, and they submitted to Seijuro, the most powerful of the new gods. It was the price they were willing to pay in order to keep themselves alive. Part of Makoto couldn’t blame them. Seijuro had led the new gods to where they were now. He was the god of creation and victory.

And he knew how not to let anyone else get in his way.

The rest of the new gods were faring well, too. They gained even more followers, continuing their Age of Miracles without any sense of discord. Makoto felt a bit desperate; he had gotten stronger and bolstered his army, but it wasn’t going to be enough to fight them at this rate. Even if Teppei had been forced to go into hiding, he still wasn’t defeated.

Makoto needed an opportunity and he needed it soon. Waiting around wasn’t going to be enough. He didn’t need to spread rumors for the minor gods to see that Teppei was weakened, still unable to completely heal with his smaller following to support him, a target. Other warriors, human and otherwise, went after his army in search of fame and the power that would come with it. Teppei’s army still proved strong, even without their leader. They survived battle after battle, not really gaining members, but protecting their existence. But just because they could handle themselves that didn’t mean anything.

Makoto waited. He trained his army back up, engaging in battles with those that wanted to challenge the gods to gain members, occasionally needing to protect his territory. They were always reluctant, but they had an honor code to follow. You lost and you assimilated with those who defeated you. They could complain all they wanted. Makoto considered them as nothing more than able bodies. His generals were the only loyal ones, and they were the only ones that mattered.

It had been fifteen years since their last battle when Makoto received word that Teppei had been seen fighting in battles again. Apparently he had decided that he needed to protect his army, despite reports of his leg still not being fully recovered.

It was perfect. Makoto grinned for the first time in years.

“Prepare for battle!” He was able to give the order, and his army responded without hesitation, armor and weapons clattering as they were passed around. “We’re going to absolutely crush them.”

If Teppei was willing to step back onto the battlefield, then Makoto was going to be his next opponent.

* * *

Looking at him, it was obvious that Teppei hadn’t fully recovered. His leg had regenerated, but that didn’t mean it was as good as it had been. The armor he wore prevented Makoto from seeing it in much detail, but Teppei was shaking a bit where he stood, and all of his army looked at him with wary eyes. He hadn’t given himself enough time to recover fully. If anything, he had come back for the sake of protecting his army and had thrown concerns of his own wellbeing aside.

On top of that he was going up against a god in that condition. Even if Makoto was only one of the old gods, he had already proven his strength. But Teppei upheld his position as the god of protection, and that would be his downfall.

Their armies clashed, and Makoto mostly watched. He stayed out of the frays, keeping his eyes on Teppei from the rear, providing strategy. Makoto only attacked on the off chance that one of Teppei’s soldiers slipped through to him and let his followers handle the rest. Sure enough, Teppei was taking on most of the damage himself. Makoto’s army would wear Teppei down, and the god of destruction would deliver the final blow himself, living up to his name.

It wasn’t long before Teppei’s tactician interfered, trying to get him to pull back. Teppei refused. Even though he was on the verge of collapsing, he refused. He was a fool. Makoto readied his sword and charged. He would aim for the legs.

He didn’t expect the dagger that pierced him from behind.

He hadn’t expected Teppei to make such powerful allies.

Looking back, Makoto could see two of them. First, there was Taiga. He wasn’t a god, but he was powerful enough to defeat them. Not on the level where they would be shamed, but enough to survive a battle and be able to claim victory. Sometimes humans were born like that, ones that were blessed. Some said that he was on par with the abilities of the new gods, and Makoto realized that he believed it.

He hadn’t believed in the other one.

Makoto froze. There was the sensation, one that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Humans weren’t capable of it, but there was an awareness you had as a god, the ability to be able to recognize those that had power. The way to recognize other gods on sight.

The sixth new god. Makoto had dismissed him as a rumor. There hadn’t been any proof of his existence. The only problem was that he was standing right there, just barely visible in Taiga’s shadow.

Tetsuya, the god of magic and shadows. He existed. He existed and he was on Teppei’s side.

Makoto’s army didn’t stand a chance.

He tried to call out an order. He didn’t know what it would be. He could tell them to retreat. He could tell them to be aware, that there was one more threat, _two_ more threats they needed to deal with. Whatever it was, Taiga and Tetsuya were on him, weapons bared, before he could fully open his mouth.

And they tore him apart.

* * *

Makoto was lucky enough to fall unconscious as they did it. He still experienced pain beforehand, an agonizing terrible thing, enough to make him scream. It was like what he had done to Teppei only worse, only in multitudes because they cut him into pieces and Makoto didn’t know what all was left of him when he woke up.

It was dark. It certainly wasn’t one of his temples. His army would have taken him there, would have tended to him the best they could. From where they had severed his head, he could feel the sensation of sitting on some sort of surface, but he didn’t have the proper nerves built up to feel what it was like. He wasn’t just the loser of the battle, he was a prisoner, a war trophy probably stranded in enemy territory. His army was most likely in shatters, the majority dead.

Eventually he heard the sounds of footsteps, of voices talking. He tried to speak, to ask questions. He couldn’t. They had taken his tongue. They had probably taken his eyes as well. They had taken everything they could, and the absence of his body from the neck down wasn’t lost on him. He could grow them back, but he was weak. It would take too long, and if they were serious, they would probably just obliterate anything that even started to regenerate. He was effectively trapped.

Sometimes they came and talked to him. They had left him his ears for that. It was all curses, all insults. Sometimes it was Junpei, sometimes it was the soldiers. It bothered him to know that he couldn’t recognize their voices. Taiga identified himself so that he would know who was talking to him, so that he could hear the voice of the one who defeated him. Tetsuya never did the same favor, if he even did come. They all came in time, even the tactician who had barely ever set foot on the battlefield.

“Do you even realize what it’s been like for us? Living with the fact that we let you get away when you did that to him?”

“How is it, you got what you deserved. How does it feel, huh?!”

“We got them good, you know. Your army. So you better not think they’ll be coming to save you.”

“You bastard! Hell’s too good for you!”

Makoto couldn’t say for sure, but Teppei didn’t come. If he did, he didn’t say anything. Makoto didn’t think he came with the others, either. It was just a feeling, but he didn’t think Teppei’s army would act like that if their god was around. Makoto didn’t want to imagine the sort of sentimentality they might have pushed onto him then.

The thought was disgusting.

For whatever reason, Teppei’s absence managed to frustrate him. If Makoto had won, if Makoto had taken Teppei as a trophy, he definitely would have taunted him in every way possible. Destroying people didn’t have to be limited to the physical. It was just as much as a verbal act.

He knew Teppei wouldn’t come. That wasn’t the type of person the god of protection was. Makoto hated him even more for it. What was the point then, of taking him if Teppei wasn’t going to make use of it? What was the point of letting the army do as they wanted with him? Was it supposed to be some sort of punishment?

Makoto thought too much about it. That was all he could to about it. In some ways, Makoto did more damage to himself than Teppei’s army, than anything Taiga or Junpei could ever say to him. Makoto waited, wanting Teppei to come in and explain what this was all about, to properly experience a defeat in opposition to this pity.

He waited, and Teppei still didn’t come.

* * *

There were weeks that passed, and Makoto could feel parts of himself coming back, reforming fragments of the body he had lost, a bit more skin and muscle trying to expand from his severed neck, parts of his eyes and tongue. Nothing that would be enough to escape, but he could at least regain his sense of sight. If he was lucky, he’d be able to speak again, too. More than likely, though, they were planning to rip them out again, and then it would be back to the same routine as always.

Makoto couldn’t wish more to be dead. It would be better than this. He knew that was the point, but he still hated it.

His eyes came back before they did anything about it. Makoto didn’t take any chances, keeping them closed until he was certain that no one else was around. When he did finally open them, the world was a blur until they adjusted. It was still dark, but not pitch blackness, bright in comparison to his former sightlessness. Through the barred window he could see the darkness of the night sky, and faint blurs that were probably stars.

He tested his voice, too. It took a few tries for his speech to be understandable, but, like his eyesight, it cleared up after some use. It wouldn’t mean anything once the army caught on, but for now, he had a sense of freedom, as little as it was.

Makoto tried his best to look around, but didn’t see anything else of use. It was just an empty room, walls made of some stone or another, the floor to match. For the first time he realized they had a barrier around him, probably Tetsuya’s magic. He couldn’t escape from only having so little in his way. He didn’t know where the rest of his body was either. If the roles were reversed, he would have destroyed it.

But the worst part of it was the fact that Teppei was standing there, and that there was regret in his eyes.

“What the hell do you want?” Makoto snarled. Had Teppei been doing this the whole time, just sitting there and feeling sorry for what had been done? That was worse than taunting him, than torturing him could ever be. At least when it came to those things, Makoto understood them.

“I’m sorry for everything,” Teppei said. Makoto would have bit his own tongue off if it would have killed him. “I didn’t want it to come to this, but everyone insisted. I guess it only makes sense because they’re my army, but . . . that still doesn’t make it right.”

“I don’t need your pity,” Makoto retorted. “If that’s all you’re here to do, then leave. Haven’t you learned anything at all? There’s no room for compassion when it comes to war. If you don’t like what they’re doing, then you either take it out on them, or you get over it. It’s bad enough I have to listen to their griping all day; I don’t need to put up with you!”

Teppei only shook his head. “You and I have the same conflicting ideas as always. It’s no wonder that we never got along.” He laughed. He actually fucking laughed in a situation like this. “That being said, I’m sorry that it took me so long to bring this to you. Repairing it was hard enough, but Tetsuya’s barriers are no joke. It was a nightmare trying to take them apart without him realizing . . .”

The rest of Teppei’s words didn’t matter. His body was there. It was still damaged and bloody, pale from injury and lack of use, but it was in one piece. Teppei had gone and put it together for him. Makoto wouldn’t be able to be in top condition right away, but he would still recover far quicker than he would have otherwise.

Teppei’s hand reached out and the barrier between Makoto and the rest of the world disappeared.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Makoto protested. This went beyond the realms of pity. It was insanity. “I’m your prisoner. You beat me. Not to mention what I did to you. I destroyed your leg, don’t you remember? You can’t possibly be so _dense_ as to actually _forget_ something like that!”

“Of course I didn’t forget,” Teppei said. Where Makoto yelled, the other kept his voice at a normal level. “It’s just that through everything they’ve done, I realized how important I am to my army. And they’re important to me, too. So your army must be waiting for you to come home, right?”

His army. What had happened to them? Surely there had to be some survivors or he wouldn’t have been able to recover at the rate he had. After all, it was their belief that gave him strength. But were they really waiting for him? Warriors didn’t have any use for a broken leader.

While Makoto had been lost in thought, Teppei had finished completing the repairs on his body. It took him a moment to get used to it again, his blood staggering as it remembered how to flow through his veins. His nerves reconnected, and the slight roughness of the stone floor built up against his feet. They had taken most of his possessions. He was left with only minimal armor and no weapons. The only way to get out of here would be to not make a scene and run.

He punched Teppei in the face, knowing that Teppei wouldn’t do anything about it. Even with him not as powerful as he had been before the Age of Miracles, Makoto was still weaker. It wouldn’t be enough to even make Teppei flinch. It was the best Makoto could do for now.

“This isn’t over, you idiot!” he declared. “I’m going to come back for you with an even greater army and we will obliterate you this time. I’ll make you regret this. I swear on it!”

Teppei laughed, not even caring for the hit to his cheek. “I know you will, Makoto. Make sure you get home safely!”

Makoto couldn’t be here anymore. If he had to spend any more time around Teppei he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back. He would start a fight again, and it would be one he wouldn’t be so lucky to survive. He destroyed the wall with a mere thought and ran.

It hurt to run, as broken as his body was. Makoto kept going until he was certain he was out of Teppei’s territory and allowed himself to collapse in some human’s fields, crushing a few of the just sprouted plants underneath him. He needed to rest. He would be able to make it back to what was left of his army and temple after that. That wasn’t something he was too worried about.

But Teppei bothered him. After all that, he had still let him go. The fact that someone else, even a god, could react in such a caring way gave Makoto an uneasy feeling in his gut. What else was he supposed to expect, though?

Teppei was still the god of protection and forgiveness. Not even the god of destruction was exempt from that. Makoto scowled up at the stars he could finally see again.

“He’s nothing but an idiot.”


End file.
